Interludes from the Third Music Room
by mercy-angel-09
Summary: A collection of ten Ouran drabbles, each revolving around a different theme. Includes, but is not limited to: Jane Austen, Miami Nights, and Super Spies.
1. Austenesque

Interludes from the Third Music Room  
Oruan High School Host Club Drabbles

**Interlude 1:** Austeneque  
**Rating:** K+  
**Theme:** Jane Austen  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own it even if I wished I did.  
**Author's Note:** This is my first Ouran High School Host Club fic. I can't come up with anything substantial that would make a remotely interesting story, but I do have these little flashes make excellent one-shots. Basically no more than one to two pages each. I've decided upon a collection of ten drabbles that will make up the interludes, usually revolving around the theme of the day for the Host Club (like this one is about Jane Austen).

That said, the theme of this fic was inspired by, well, Jane Austen. I've re-read _Pride & Prejudice_, not to mention re-watched the entire BBC mini-series (woo, Colin Firth!). Then I starting thinking about it, and it seemed like something the Host Club would do.

--

Haruhi stared through the open French doors that lead into the Third Music Room. How was it that she never managed to see these sorts of things coming? Tamaki pranced around in breeches, a frock coat, waistcoat and necktie, with a shiny black top hat settled neatly upon his blond head. He stuffed one hand into his waistcoat (which had an elegant design of black and periwinkle blue paisley that managed to set off his eyes) Napoleon style, before he stood like said Emperor in the middle of the room, surveying his "empire."

Each of the remaining Host Club members also wore Regency era clothing. Long trousers or breeches, waistcoats, frock coats, ties that looked like a hideous dickey . . . in all Haruhi wasn't extremely impressed. "Um, Tamaki-senpai? Why the clothes?"

"Why? Why? My dear daughter! As a girl I thought you would know why!" Tamaki explained in exasperation as he glided over to her and grabbed one of her hands, bringing it to his mouth in a swift kiss. "Jane Austen is all the rage with girls – rich and common alike! Isn't it obvious! I'm Mr. Darcy!"

Haruhi tilted her head to one side and studied her senior. "I dunno, you seem more like a Mr. Collins to me."

Struck by the bluntness of her words, Tamaki retreated to his corner, his hat settled in front of him, steadily growing mushrooms.

"Ha-ru-hi!" the twins chimed, flanking her in their matching costumes, ignoring their lord's pouting.

"Look what we have for you!" Kaoru said, holding up a gold and black waistcoat.

"Made specially for you!" Hikaru said, smiling widely. The matching frock coat was elegant and it was cut and tailored for her petite frame.

Kyoya was busy scribbling notes at the small tea table. Smokey grays and blacks were his colors, cool just like his personality. And if Haruhi didn't know any better, Kyoya would represent Mr. Darcy in the first volume of Austen's classic. "Kyoya-senpai, why exactly are we doing this?"

Not even bothering to look up from his notes (scribbled, she now noticed, with an elegantly plumed quill complete with a matching period ink jar onto rolls of parchment), Kyoya answered her matter-of-factly. "It is just as Tamaki-kun said. There has been a recent interest in Jane Austen and therefore in order to make the girls happy we are doing a Regency day. We shall all behave like the men from Austen's novels."

"So then I suppose that Hikaru and Kaoru are Wickham and Willoughby?"

"That's correct!" the twins chimed, smiling roguishly.

"And Mori-senpai must be Col. Brandon."

Indeed, Mori was dressed in a bright red coat, though much more elaborate than anything every worn by British Army officers. The starched white trousers and the black boots gleamed in the sunlight that was pouring in from the window he stood next to.

"Haru-chan! Guess who I am! Guess! Guess!"

Honey-senpai bounded up in a pink embellished waistcoat with a beautiful starched white silk shirt beneath it. He had removed his frock coat, and it was lying across the back of one of the many sofas in the room. Studying him for a moment, Haruhi was stumped. "I don't know."

"I'm Mr. George Knightly!"

"Why?"

With a giggle, Honey grinned at her. "Because I'm the oldest!"

Haruhi remained silent as Honey-senpai pranced away. That's right, even though he looked about ten years old, Honey was the oldest member of the club, and likewise, George Knightly from _Emma_ was one of the oldest heroes. Realizing that the other members had been assigned characters, she was then only one left.

"Ano, Tamaki-senpai," she started slowly. "Who am I supposed to be?"

Tamaki brightened when she addressed him, standing with a flourish and draping his arm around her narrow shoulders. "Why, my dearest daughter, you get to pick! I am Mr. Darcy, even if you say otherwise."

"Kyoya-senpai is better suited to be Mr. Darcy," Haruhi voiced this time, causing Tamaki's face fall momentarily before he shook it off and regained his happy countenance.

"Nonsense, Haruhi-chan!" Tamaki tut-tutted. "Anyway, you may choose whom you'd like to be."

With a sigh, Haruhi wracked her brain for a suitable Austen hero to claim. "I suppose the last one really worth claiming is Edward Ferrars."

"Excellent choice," Kyoya said, quickly handing her a bible.

Staring at it, Haruhi bit her lip. "Um, why do I need this, senpai?"

With a wicked grin, Kyoya answered, "You're going to be a vicar, remember? Hikaru, Kaoru, the change of costume, please."

Nodding, Hikaru and Kaoru produced a plain frock coat and black breeches with black stockings. The waistcoat was a simple one of black cotton. The whole outfit was bland by comparison to what everyone else was wearing.

"Wait a minute, Kyoya-senpai!" Haruhi exclaimed, put out by the fact that her beautiful costume had been shoved back into its box. "Why the costume changes?"

Pushing his glasses up, Kyoya smiled. "You're going to be a vicar, remember."

--

Okay, the reason why I had Tamaki stand like Napoleon is because I was taking a cheap shot at his French heritage. I swear, no more mocking Tamaki's French-ness, even if it would be fun or even funny.

Anyway, I truly appreciate reviews, particularly constructive ones that tell what people liked or didn't like about the story. I like reviews that help me improve as a writer, and flames will be laughed at and thrown away.

Mercy-Angel-09


	2. Outlaw

Interludes from the Third Music Room  
Ouran High School Host Club Drabbles

**Interlude 2:** Outlaw  
**Rating:** K+  
**Theme:** Wild West  
**Disclaimers:** I don't own Ouran High School Host Club. Ultimately, a bunch of people who are not me have the rights, and first and foremost that includes Bisco Hattori.  
**Author's Note:** Ah, here we are, drabble two. When I started this, all I thought about was that Tamaki had been watching too many movies. And that Mori would look really good in deerskin pants, a headdress and war paint. As I wrote it developed into what you see here. Usual amounts of fluff and Kyoya tormenting Haruhi.

--

In the middle of Harhui's chemistry class, a funny feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. During lunch, it developed into anxious butterflies. And with each wicked grin that the twins shared, the feeling in her stomach grew worse. On days like these, she really just needed to suck it up and incur Kyoya's wrath and call in sick for Host Club. But no, that stubborn streak that tied her to honor had won out and now she was dressed like Billy the Kid.

Tamaki had taken to watching American Westerns on his satellite TV, and as a result had fallen madly in love with the idea of the American Wild West. He now strutted around the Third Music Room talking like John Wayne, a half-Japanese half-French John Wayne, but like John Wayne nevertheless, referring to everyone as "pilgrim." Just watching him was exhausting to Harhui.

Along with Tamaki's crazy idea there had been ample costuming dilemmas. Tamaki had been adamant that Harhui would be dressed up in Victorian finery, including a corset and a parasol. However Kyoya's rationale won out with the argument that they didn't want the girls to think that Haruhi was cross-dressing. After a couple of minutes of pouting in the corner, Tamaki conceded that Kyoya had a point and a more suitable costume was chosen.

Both Honey and Mori were dressed up like Indians, complete with deerskin pants, feathered headdresses and beaded vests. Harhui couldn't help but think the role of the serious Indian chief suited Mori-senpai. He stood there, his face painted and his expression blank, only uttering an "unh" or "nuh" response when required. Honey on the other hand was the image of a playful young warrior, all the while eating biscuits covered in honey.

The twin devil types were dressed as outlaws, outlandish fake moustaches and goatees adding to the look. Strapped to their hips were toy six shooters, which they would pull out and duel with in order to impress the ladies they were entertaining. Clearly they had been in on the whole operation with their beloved Tono from the very beginning.

Kyoya, forever in possession of a cool and elegant demeanor, wore a floor length black duster, black trousers, a black shirt, and a black cowboy hat with (surprise) black cowboy boots. The only thing that wasn't black on him was shiny silver badge with a star in the center of it, which he'd been told was the mark of a lawman. Now, Haruhi wasn't sure if Tamaki had assigned the role to Kyoya or if the Shadow King had decided to take the role for himself, but either way there was no denying how appropriate it was.

With a heavy sigh, Haruhi looked over to where Tamaki sat with a group of girls. Dressed like the Duke, he told wild stories about life on the trail, with no one to keep him company but his horse. (Did Tamaki even own a horse? Haruhi didn't doubt it, considering how rich he was, but where would he keep it?) That statement, of course, sent the girls into a swooning fit. Rolling her eyes, Haruhi had to wonder how the girls swallowed Tamaki's lines day in and day out, week after week.

And that left her.

"Haruhi-kun?"

Turing to her right, Haruhi looked at one of her regular customers. Giving an inquiring look, Haruhi cocked her head. "Yes?"

"Is it true you've been arrested for property damage?"

Yes, Fujioka Haruhi was sitting in "jail" for "property damage." Kyoya had been most insistent on that. Muttering curses under her breath, Haruhi nodded. Admittedly, the jail was nothing more than a façade that had been quickly constructed by the art club, but Haruhi hadn't really seen the point of having it, until it had been deemed that she was going to be sitting behind bars. She had argued that the twins should be locked up, or even Tamaki, but Kyoya was just as stubborn as she was and with a threat of more debt, Haruhi had taken her seat on the stool that sat behind the prop. Which is where she still was. For a crime that she had committed months ago. "Yeah."

"Oh, Haruhi-kun! Be strong!"

"This, this is nothing!" Haruhi answered. "I've been through worse." Her mind wandered to back to when she was helping her dad at the okama bar and how many came to work before putting their make-up on. Now that was a truly horrifying experience.

By now a group of girls had congregated outside of the barred window where Haruhi sat. There were supportive cries and a general bonding over "Free Haruhi!" but it quickly diminished when Kyoya, dressed as the lawman in black, moseyed over to them.

"Ladies?"

A collective gulp was made by the group.

"You're disturbing the peace."

This was answered with a collective sweatdrop.

"For that, the prisoner will have to be punished more."

"What?" one girl cried. "You can't do that!"

With a wicked grin, Kyoya shook his head. "You see this?" he said, indicating to his badge. "I'm the one who makes the rules. And for disturbing the peace, Haruhi's sentence will be extended indefinitely."

There was more clamoring as the girls dispersed, leaving Haruhi alone with Kyoya. Giving her a slight nod, he wandered back to his customers, leaving Haruhi alone. She made a mental note after that. If she ever had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, she was going to call in sick. Period.

--

Um, yeah. So anyway…What did you think? Any good? Or should I just scrap it? I felt like making a little reference to the fact that Kyoya seems to keep coming up with ways to keep Haruhi in the Host Club, so when he said that he was extending her sentence indefinitely, he was warning her. I dunno, seemed like a good idea at the time.

As always, please, please, leave reviews. I answer back, believe it or not. I like touching base with the readers to get a sense of what they want.

Mercy-Angel-09


	3. Masked

**Interlude #3 – **Masked  
**Rating –** K+  
**Theme –** Mardi Gras  
**Disclaimer –** I do not own the Host Club, even though I wish I did. Just doing this to pay my respects to such an awesome series.  
**Author's Notes –** Ahem. Well, long time, no see. I apologize for the lack up updates (September 5, if might recall). I'm afraid, as I stated in my author bio, that I've suffered from a major attack of the real life – which included my laptop being stolen, with all of my latest chapters of my various fics included. I apologize if this particular drabble seems disjointed. I had it brilliantly written out on my laptop before it was jacked, and basically this is a patchy recollection of what I had previously written. Don't worry; I'm finally getting back on track and soon I should be cranking these out in no time (that is if I can tear myself away from Twilight Princess).

Thanks for hanging in there, dear readers!

--

"I absolutely refuse."

Those were fighting words, coming from Haruhi. It was late afternoon in the Third Music Room, and the Host Club was seated around the conference table planning their next theme day.

As usual, Tamaki had been struck by inspiration and was eagerly pushing his idea on to the rest of the club. The moment of inspiration had been in French class. In addition to learning the language (which, in Haruhi's opinion, had to be inane for Tamaki seeing as he grew up in France and therefore spoke the language fluently), it was also a class for culture. Thus the inspiration for Mardi Gras came about. The Host King was now enthusiastically pushing his vision.

There were the usual reactions to Tamaki's announcement. Honey had immediately begun to smile and agreed that it sounded like fun. Mori nodded in silent agreement with his cousin. Smiling devilishly, the twins began to plot up costumes and decorations. Kyoya was busy typing on a spreadsheet, no doubt preparing an expense report. Thus Haruhi was remained as the lone voice of dissent.

'Tamaki-senpai, I can't see this as being something our patrons would want."

"Don't be silly, Haruhi!" Tamaki tsked. "Mardi Gras is about the party! Since one of the biggest Mardi Gras celebrations takes place in New Orleans, we'll give them a taste of the Big Easy!"

"If that's what they want, why don't they go there?"

Tamaki sighed as if he were talking to a stubborn child. "Because it's difficult to travel and so expensive."

"At least they have the money," Haruhi pointed out with a frown. Inwardly she was cursing the rich prats that surrounded her.

Waving away Haruhi's last comment, Tamaki continued with his explanation. "The food, the decorations, the costumes, the masks, the beads – why, it's experience of a lifetime!"

"Yes, but they can experience it first hand if they just go to New Orleans. At least they can afford the airfare, hotel and other accommodations."

"That's true," Kyoya replied, without stopping his work. "But this is Tamaki we're talking about. Once he makes up his mind, there's no turning back."

"Why should I agree to this?" Haruhi asked, dreading the reply.

Quickly the twins ambushed her, who then sandwiched her between them. "Well, for one everyone is wearing really elaborate costumes," Kaoru answered.

"And there are beads," Hikaru chimed.

"Lots of music and dancing in the streets."

"And there are beads."

"Plus everyone is eating really good food."

"And there are beads. But you have to earn them."

Tamaki sensed the direction of Hikaru's next statement and sent the older twin flying with a punch. "Stop harassing my daughter!"

"I still don't see how this is a selling point," Haruhi continued with her argument.

From deep within the bowels of the third music room, the rumble of a high-powered motor echoed. Groaning, Hikaru, Kaoru, and Tamaki all turned around to see Renge make her grand entrance.

"Oh hohohohohohoho!" she laughed as the platform spiraled into place. "Mardi Gras, where all rules are thrown away to give way to passionate living!"

"And blatant stupidity," Haruhi added.

"All the more fun!" the twins chimed, sandwiching her once more.

"Anyway," Renge continued, slightly ruffled that her entering line had been spoiled by Haruhi's obvious distaste for Tamaki's latest brainchild. "Mardi Gras is a time for the girls to cast away the normal inhibitions of high school and their rigid social structure and pretend to be wild and free."

"Then they should go for a run on the beach."

"The elegance and charm of New Orleans is what Tamaki-senpai is aiming for. Mystery, excitement, it all adds up to the experience of a lifetime."

"Doesn't this Mardi Gras experience usually involve the consumption of massive amounts of alcoholic beverages as well?"

"That's what usually leads to stupidity," Kyoya added on. "But what Tamaki wants, Tamaki gets. Even you should know that by now, Haruhi."

With a sigh, Haruhi mentally agreed. Somehow or another Tamaki always got what he wanted, no matter how troublesome it was for the other members of the Host Club. He was extremely persuasive when he wanted to be, with those big blue pools that he had the nerve to call his eyes. All it took were a few tears and everyone fell victim to his will.

"Fine. If Tamaki wants the Mardi Gras theme, I'll go with it."

Tamaki's eyes watered with tears of joy. "Really! You'll do it?"

Shooting Kyoya a dirty look, Haruhi nodded. "It appears that I don't have much of a choice in the matter. But on one condition."

"Anything you want, my dearest daughter. Daddy will make it so."

"I flash no one for beads."

On that Haruhi dismissed herself from club activities for the day while Tamaki's Inner Mind Theater ran away with all of the possibilities her last statement brought to mind.

--

Yeah, so not my best work, but I had the theme and the general concept. I'm afraid it's not as good as the original but I tried. I also wanted to work in the Host Club's very own otaku, Renge, just because things tend to get even more chaotic when she's around. And she annoys the hell out of Tamaki and the Twins.

Well, pip pip, cheerio! Leave reviews!

Mercy-Angel-09


	4. Safari

**Interlude 4 ­**– Safari

**Rating** – K+

**Theme**_– _African Safari

**Featured Character** – Mori

**Disclaimer ­–** I do not own Host Club. Props to Bisco Hatori who created such an awesome series.

**Author's Notes** – Apologies on the wait here. I had some writing issues. I seem to become filled with ideas and start in this mad rush to get them all down so I don't lose them. This means that I not only have four or five fics going at one time, it also means that I have them written in the most random places – notebooks, napkins, paper towels, the back of my work schedule – well, you get the idea. You may have also noticed that there is a featured character in this drabble, and it's not Haruhi. I really wanted to examine how the other members of the Club felt about Haruhi being in their midst, and likewise how Haruhi feels about the other members of the club. Naturally they're in some rather odd situations when this takes place, but the whole point of this series of drabbles was that they revolved around these obscure theme days that Tamaki dreams up. Character analysis is just a bonus. **smiles **At any rate this fic is Mori-centric and takes a look at how Haruhi sees Mori and how Mori sees Haruhi. Enjoy. 

--

Haruhi found it difficult to concentrate over the roaring of the lions. Sometimes she wondered just what was going through Tamaki's mind when he came up with these grand ideas for the theme days. Of course, she always quickly came to her senses and decided that sometimes it was better to not know what was going through Tamaki's mind. If she really knew, she would probably have to under go years of therapy to recover from the trauma.

Most of the time, Pandora's Box wasn't worth opening.

When Tamaki had recommended an African Safari for the next theme day, she'd decided first that the fight wasn't worth it, and second that it might actually be fun. What she hadn't realized was that Tamaki would bring a zoo to school and a garden would be converted to look like the Serengeti. The African theme Haruhi could have handled. Tribal masks and costumes, native foods; that was what she had thought Tamaki had meant.

But of course Tamaki always had to do things on a grand scale, which meant that a whole section of the school now looked like a little piece of Africa.

"Haruhi!"

At Tamaki's cheerful call, she did her best to hide the grimace as she turned to face her fearless leader. "Yes, Tamaki-senpai?"

"We're out of instant coffee, among other things. I want you to go with Mori-senpai and pick up provisions."

Kyoya handed her an envelope filled with what she presumed to be funds for said provisions. "And please hurry. If you're late, I'll add the loss to your debt."

Leave it to Kyoya to make debt the key to her motivation within club activities.

"Then I'll be on my way then. Let's go Mori-senpai."

"Un."

This would easy. All she had to do was run down to the little corner store down the street and be done with it. She didn't understand why Mori-senpai had been asked to come along, though. It seemed like this was easy enough and nothing on the list was overly large nor was the item count so immense that she couldn't carry it herself. As she pondered just why Mori had been asked along, she suddenly felt him grab her by the back of her shirt and pull her tightly to his side.

Turns out Mori had an impeccable sense of timing, as a small herd of wildebeests ran by. Right where she had been standing moments before.

"M-mori-senpai," she stammered.

"Careful, Haruhi."

"Er, yeah. Right," she answered, pulling away from him. Looking at the stoic third year student from the corner of her eye, she wondered just what made him tick. Obviously there was the deep connection to Honey-senpai, but beyond that, Mori-seemed, well, a little one-dimensional. "So, Mori-senpai, besides Kendo and Host Club, do you have other interests?"

"Yes."

Did he care to elaborate on that? Apparently not.

"What's your favorite class?"

"Geography. Or Japanese history."

"Ah." Haruhi sighed inwardly. This was Mori she was talking to after all. She would be doing most of the talking. But there was something very comforting in the fact that he rarely said anything. Unlike the other members of the club that always seemed to be moving at a million miles per second, Mori represented a stability that probably would be lacking if not for him. Taking that into consideration, Haruhi continued to walk along one of the dirt paths and out of the courtyard and into the main campus.

Wearing the epitome of African high fashion, both she and Mori looked out of place amongst the order of the school. Uniformed students stopped to stare at her brightly colored outfit, and the normally cool and collected Haruhi was beginning to feel awkward and out of place. Normally she dealt with the pressure of being the commoner among the rich and fabulous, but for some reason being dressed in something other than the uniform was making her feel strange. Looking up at Mori, she realized that her feelings were silly and unfounded. If Mori could walk around campus in such a get up (tribal wear which consisted of a loin cloth and spear) there was no reason why Haruhi, who in comparison was totally clothed, should be feeling strange or out of place.

"Mori-senpai? Don't you feel silly in that outfit?"

Looking over at her curiously, Mori raised an eyebrow. "Should I?"

"Well you are mostly naked."

Mori responded with a soft chuckle. Naturally Haruhi had blurted out the obvious, which he was aware of. He was aware of the girls stopping and ogling his bare chest, but he didn't see a reason to become self-conscious about it. That Haruhi would be bothered was enough to raise his curiosity, so he asked, "Does it bother you that I am mostly naked?"

Haruhi blushed and Mori understood why Tamaki and the twins were so enamored by her. She was cute, despite her non-committal efforts to appear so. "No."

"Then I see no problem with it. It is just a costume. I do not wear clothes like these all of the time."

That was true. In fact, Mori was usually impeccably dressed, in uniform or not. Even these wild costumes that Tamaki dreamed up were worn with class. Sighing in resignation, Haruhi made a dismissive gesture. Mori was not one to raise a fuss. He dealt with his problems in his own quiet manner and trudged through all of Tamaki's harebrained schemes without complaining.

Haruhi found a new respect for her senpai that afternoon.

She just hoped that the clerk at the store would respect him, too.

--

Short and sweet, ne? I didn't want to over do it, so I felt it was best to leave their quest unfinished. You guys can decide what happens at the store when nearly naked Mori walks in. Oh, and a note about what Haruhi is wearing, I figure sort of the brightly colored/patterned tunics and trousers that I, as a painfully white girl, associate with African heritage festivals. (I can trace my ancestors back to being slaves on sugar plantations in Cuba about 200 years ago, but that doesn't mean I fully understand my African heritage.) Sorry, I don't know what the official names for the garments are but I'm sure most of you can figure out what I mean.

As always, leave reviews 'cuz I love to hear what my readers think!

Mercy-Angel-09


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